The A,B,Cs--Batsyle: A is for Arkham
by DCKidWing13
Summary: NEW SERIES (Yes, I know I should be working on My Son, but...): Each story represents a letter of the alphabet in "Bat-way". Here's the first story: A is for Arkham in which we get to see the Bats' views on Arkham Asylum. Please vote on the poll. I cannot continue the story until I have enough votes. So far, I only have four.
1. Chapter 1

**The A, B, Cs—****_Batstyle—A is for Arkham_**

**A. Arkham Asylum**

Chapter One

Arkham. A place even Satan would call a hellhole. The criminally insane lurk at every corner. They stare you down, somehow twisting your own mind in the process. It's a dark, depressing place. My skin crawls every time I go there. Especially when I have to meet with one of psychos. Even so, I probably belong in there. But I know I'll never put myself up to that.

I can't sleep. All I can do is work. I've been staring at the computer screen for hours. I've read of the same files a million times. I've come to memorize it all, but I still look at them again and again, hoping I had missed something. That I had overlooked some major clue that would put this whole thing to rest. But I come up empty.

It's 4am. I sent Alfred away to rest a few hours ago. Rest. I don't think he ever _sleeps_. But then again, neither do I. I haven't had a good night's rest since I was eight years old. And I won't again until the streets of Gotham are safe and secure. They'll never safe. Not in this city.

Alfred worries about me. Alfred worries about all of us. We know what we're doing, we've told him that. But he just can't help but worry. Even after all these years. He's a good soul, Alfred. He's family to me. But he could never replace my father. He is just a dear old friend. He's one of my few _only_ friends. God knows I would not be here if it weren't for the old man. Hmph, God. I try not to think about my own religion. I was raised as a Catholic, at least until my parent died. From then on, I wondered if there even is a so-called God. And if there was, why did he do that to them? Why did he do this to me? Why has Gotham fallen into the pit of the devil's lair? Why…Why…Why? That's all I can do. Ask why. But I know I'll never get an answer. I'll never know if there is a true God. I'll never know _why_ all of this had to happen. All there'll ever be left is the question, never the answer. And I hate not knowing the answer to a question.

I still have nothing. No hints. No clues. No _answers _at all. I only have six hours left. I've working on this case for weeks and still don't have anything to use. There has to be a lead somewhere. There's always a lead. Only six hours. Six hours before I have to go to that psychotic zoo. That prison for those who are probably too far gone to ever get the help they need. The place full of over-medicated and deluded scum. That hellhole where the walls are made of _paper_. Where you can't even trust the guards who run the place. In now less than six hours, I have to go there. I have to go there and I still haven't found anything. In less than six hours, I have to meet…_him_. The biggest pain to me living in Gotham. The king of the criminally insane. One of the two men I hate most of all. I hear his voice in my head at night. I know that he's planning something. He always is. The thought of it keeps me awake and working. He's the one person who I just can't… I don't even know who he is! Or at least who he _was_. Now, the whole world knows who he is. I can't even play _solitaire_ anymore. His name…it's poisonous for me to say. Every time I see him, rage fills inside of me and I just want to… I have to meet him in just a little over five hours from now. Five hours. That's not enough time. But then, there is never enough time. I can _feel_ him waiting for this. Waiting to tick me off. Waiting for me to grab and threaten him as our "little game" always goes. Five hours until…_The Joker_.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I do not own anything and I make no profit from these stories (if I did, I'd update a lot sooner, don't you think?). All mistakes are mine. Rated for violence and language that will most likely come in later chapters and/or later in the series.**

Chapter Two

Arkham. The very place where all of Gotham's madmen resign. The ultimate dream hotel for a criminal psycho on vacation. The place that makes even the Bermuda Triangle seem an angel's private pool. There's so much that I've seen happen there: war, death, and to top it all off…_him_. The very definition of "criminally insane". One of the few people I can actually bring myself to _hate_. He's there. At Arkham. Waiting. Planning. …Laughing. Always laughing. Nothing is ever funny. In only five hours I have to go to that psychotic prison house. I have to venture into _his_ world once again. I have to go with Bruce—Batman—to meet with the king of crazy…The _Joker_. The only clown I ever disliked. He makes a mockery of the circus.

If this lair of Satan's was located anywhere else in the world, it wouldn't be nearly as bad. But, no. It just _has_ to be here in Gotham. Gotham City. God's blind-spot. Home to the world's most mentally-disturbed masterminds. God, help them. Oh, that's right. Blind-spot. We're all going to Hell anyway.

I'm still hopping rooftops, waiting for a call from Batman to tell me what he's found. I've been at this for hours. Soon I'll be heading home. I know I won't sleep, but I _am_ hungry. Batman knows how to contact me if something comes up. Batman knows just about _everything_ about me. Said or unsaid, he knows it all. He's Batman. He _has_ to know everything. Even if he'd be better off _not_ knowing. You get used to it.

Only four and a half hours left. Come on, Batman. Give me _something_. I'm supposed to be finding clues like the detective I was trained to be. I'd already been to the sites. I've already read over the files, the same ones Batman is studying now. I just have to wait for Batman to find something. Waiting. It never was my strong point.

I'm home now. Well, as close to a home I have left. I guess the Manor will always have its doors open to me, but I can't go back there for any more than a _visit_. Too many bad memories. Hell, too many memories _period_. Still, it is always nice to come home for a little while. I know Bruce appreciates it. That makes it worthwhile.

I'm still waiting. There's only four hours left. I'm beginning to worry that Batman may not find anything in time. It wouldn't be the first time. I _would_ call him, but I know better than to disturb Batman while he's working. Heh. The man's _always_ working. Man. It's the last part of his title, but does it really exist in who he is? I'm now old enough to know that my former mentor _does_ care. He just doesn't know how to show it. And he _does_ have feelings. He's just too _stubborn_ to show them. Although his physical and intellectual abilities exceed that of a normal human being's, he's no god. Nope. Not even a meta-human…I _think_. He was born as any other into this cruel world. He lost his parents as a child and swore to avenge their deaths by protecting Gotham. He trains intensively and embedded into himself that he can't ever show fear, but instead must cause it. I now know that Batman_ does_ fear. So, yes, he _is_ a man. But is he a part of mankind? Or is he simply just a boy who grew up too quickly and forced the adaptation of a bat personality upon himself? Great. Here I go again. It's not healthy for me to psycho-analyze this job and the people who work it. That includes _myself_. But sometimes, I just can't help but wonder who it is that always welcomes me at the Manor. Who it is that adopted me. …Who it is that has to meet with Joker in only a little over three and a half hours. Is it the _Man_…or the **Bat**?

**A/N: You can probably guess whose thoughts the next chapter will be of. I've put up a poll on my profile page. I know not many are reading this story, but I really need some votes before I can post the next chapter. The poll is about if this story should take place before or after Damian Wayne. Please vote. Thank you.**


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